Random thought

I just got back from dinner with three women. Now the conversation kept veering toward things like how many women faculty there are in our departments, where they are in their career, how hard things might have been at various earlier points in their careers and so on.

Now my question is this. In fields such as applied mechanics or some such clearly dominated by male geeks (and by dominated, I mean nothing more than there are many more of them in number, I am in no way referring to intellectual ability), what’s the chance a woman is going to be treated any less than perfect?

I mean, as far as I’ve seen, as a student, the number of women are usually so small in comparison with men, that the few are treated like goddesses. No matter how smart they are, capable they are, attractive (whatever criteria of judgement you choose to judge by) … they are.

Travels and tribulations

– You shouldn’t start packing for a trip at 12:10 after your ride calls and says she’ll be there at 12:30. You’re bound to forget something. Something important.

– When your boarding pass says row 11, you assume that means you’re going to be somewhere waaay up in the front of the flight. Not the last row.

– Duct tape is not a safe way of securing, oh, 10% of the hull of an aircraft. (Picture probably later.)

– Beware of places where their idea of “variety in cuisine” is degrees of raw to well done steak.

My Big Mouth—Reprise

[Halfway through typing up last night’s post, I realized I had at least three quite unrelated thoughts I was trying to cram into one block of text. Before I probably do something similar today, I’d like to say in my defence that it was almost 2 A.M when I typed that up, and I wasn’t particularly concentrating on what I was saying, just desperately trying to do anything but the ton of work I had piled up.

Needless to say, I still have all that work piled up. Hence the existence of today’s post.]

My second pass at this. The “let’s try to make some sense” variant.

Men and women are rather different. We can feign things so that we appear similar enough on the surface, but we’re rather different. Case in point, levels of communication. I am fairly certain we each have a certain treshold-number-of-words we’re capable of handling in a day. On average, I’d say a woman can handle some 8000 whereas the guy can handle some 1000.

Yes, I made up those numbers.

Anyway, guys just don’t talk as much about certain things. We don’t even talk as much at all, let alone about specific things. Which is a root cause for a lot of confusion, as at many points, women like things explicitly stated. They’re not tremendous fans of the ambiguous flows guys have little trouble wallowing in. So during dinner, it came up over and over how this guy never calls, or never writes or never anything. But then again, out of the blue, at random points, he is still capable of extremely sweet gestures.

Of course, since I was there, and I was a guy too, I was quite obviously asked for my take on things, in a how-could-he-possibly-be-seeing-me way. My first instinct, which was what I went with, was for god sakes the please don’t label him as “generally nice”. He is being nice, specifically with you, for reasons he will not state, but ones you must magically read. I mean, you are the woman right? Aren’t you supposed to be extremely perceptive to this sort of thing? Why should he say anything? Why should he call when he does what he does?

Of course, it later dawned on me that that was a spur of the moment, erroneous judgement call. In most cases, someone being nice is being nice expecting some sort of payoff, but that isn’t always true. Even cynics have to have that much faith in humanity. I mean, the nature of some of these “sweet gestures” could fall under a general sort of carey-safeguardey-providery “state”, which is nothing more than a natural response to “take care of and be nice to” someone close who needs help at the time.

Meaning, read into it or not, don’t trust a clown like me to make the call. And definitely don’t take my take on things as sufficient reason to go ahead with your “make yourself stunning so he doesn’t stand a chance since he likes you but just doesn’t know it, yet” plans.

My big mouth

[I’m going to be leaving for a talk soon. Which means I have to do things so that I have something to talk about. Which means I am not going to be updating this place for a while.

Which means things aren’t going to be too different from how they’ve been in the recent past.]

I went out to dinner to this fancy place, the Bella Ciao, with a friend a few nights ago. It was definitely one of the most pleasant (and did I mention fancy?) dining experiences I’ve had in a while. When people decide on places to eat, they most probably confer with their refined palate as to how it feels like pleasuring itself for the day. But I, like a few others I’m sure, just pick the place with the most appealing wait staff.

You’d think someone like me will just go to the closest place open to minimize time wasted and try to rush back to their work, but that’s not true. I enjoy good food. I enjoy adorable waitresses more.

But, I digress.

Returning to our central theme, the one you know nothing about considering the digression, I was out to dinner with a friend recently and quite intrigued by some of the questions brought up during the conversation that ensued. Now, being a woman, she (perfectly legitimately) had to bring up irrational men behaviour that she’d recently been subjected to in her life. By, irrational men behaviour, I don’t mean the behaviour of irrational men, I mean the seemingly irrational behaviour men exhibit when it comes to… let’s just say, certain aspects of life. Being a male and all, I have some insight into the “why”s pertaining to the things we do, as opposed to most women, who just have the pleasure of dealing with the “what”s.

Anyway, when things came up, I found myself coolly delivering very sane sounding canned answers that made perfect sense to the innocent third party. I know fully well why I probably did this, apart from the near-divine meal I was concentrating so hard on. I honestly believed what I was saying, and had earlier given it so much thought, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind as to what I should say. But later, the next day or something, I thought about it. I wasn’t entirely sure.

For the most part, I’m fairly certain most people who’re arbitrarily nice to other people have some sort of weird ulterior motive. More so when it’s a guy doing something for a woman seemingly without reason. They needn’t even know what it is, it probably exists and they’re doing it hoping for the payoff. Now I believe that so strongly, a bunch of things I said that night were parroting this theme. Now, I don’t know what it is, I am not sure. After much thought, there is this little fuzzy region where the guy sometimes tends to be nice, ulterior-motive-free. It’s some sort of inherent carey-safeguardey-providery state where he just has to. It’s like nature gives him no choice but to don that role. How long this lasts and when the he-definitely-wants-something and is thus nice state starts isn’t entirely clear.

Now you can’t go back and recant everything you said a few days ago and kill the hope that random male was being arbitrarily nice because he probably liked you. Not after your statements reinforced another’s earlier plan of making myself stunning so he doesn’t stand a chance since he likes me but just doesn’t know it, yet.

Eek.

You probably need more detail into the specifics of the topics of conversation that came up to have a clue as to what I am talking about. I’m too lazy to go back and reword this for clarity. Probably some other time.

Lime green tops

If you see someone wearing a cute (lime green no less) top, you compliment the person. The standard response is, “why, thank you”, or “I didn’t think you’d notice” or something of the sort from the person you complimented.

Not, everybody else in the room suddenly questioning your sexuality.

What would you do if you saw someone pulling off a lime green top?